Phonebooth
by invertedrainbow
Summary: In which Ferb notices the existence of a phonebooth in their room and gives him an idea on what to do for the day. As usual, he got carried away. Ferb/Phineas


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Phineas and Ferb, and I am no way affiliated with Disney or the makers themselves, Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh.

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><p><strong>Phonebooth<strong>

"I have no idea why I haven't noticed this before."

"I have no idea why we're doing this, and _ugh_ it's hot in here."

It was a compromising situation, Phineas pinned on the glass of the phonebooth in the room, Ferb's lips brushing Phineas' ear, teasing playfully.

"Seriously…" Phineas panted out. "I knew something was odd when you told me that you knew what we're gonna do today." He managed to breathe out, trying to push Ferb off of him. "Get… off… me…!"

"Thank you, body building lessons." His grip on Phineas' wrist got tighter, and Phineas flinched. Ferb apologized with a small peck on the cheek, mouthing a small "Sorry" that Phineas felt through his cheeks. "What are you so jittery about, anyway?"

"Just the fact that somebody might actually walk in on us and the whole point of not telling anyone would come out as an effort in vain!"

Ferb scoffed. "You do know that I made our room sound proof, yes?"

"Huh…?"

"Phineas, it was about time we used our brains to our advantage, so I tweaked around the room a bit." Ferb was grinning, still pinning him against the glass wall. He was sweating now; it was a cramped space after all. "So just _relax,_" He leaned down, trying to get a hold of those luscious lips, and he got it, earning a moan from the other boy. "And let me do what we both need…"

And Phineas didn't fight back anymore – any resistance is futile, he knew so well – and just stood there, trying hard to fight back to moan that was escaping from his throat. His nails dug deep on Ferb's back, his self composure running thin. The polished glass around him wasn't helping as well, he could see his aroused face and it made him feel so—

Dirty.

He pushed Ferb off him finally, stumbling out of the booth with some of the buttons of his shirt open, his chest fully exposed (Ferb had to control himself, since Phineas would hate him if he would suddenly jump on him) and face flustered.

"Yeah, I got carried away," Ferb mumbled asked for Phineas' hand to pull him up, and Phineas did need assistance, so he gave his hand, and when Ferb pulled, he pulled a little too hard that Phineas went straight to his chest, and at that moment, Ferb was torn between crushing Phineas with the tightest hug he could possibly give and kiss the sanity out of him.

As usual, he chose to do the second choice, leaning as slowly as possible, teasing; Phineas was anticipating, closing his eyes, knowing damn well what Ferb was doing. He could feel Ferb's warm breath on his lips, going down to his neck, planting small kisses on it. Ferb went back to his lips, nipping slowly his lower lip, and when Phineas couldn't hold back anymore, his eyes bolted open and he growled, "Just kiss me and get this over with."

And Ferb did. He took that invitation and cupped one of Phineas' cheeks with his hand, the other on Phineas' back, pulling him closer, _closer_; pressing his lips harshly, their kiss almost bruising but still they didn't stop. Phineas was starting to moan, and Ferb took advantage, exploring Phineas' mouth, tasting peppermint as he go.

"Damnit," Phineas groaned when Ferb pulled away, and his knees gave up, falling down. He blushed as he stared up, seeing Ferb laughing.

"I'm that good?" Ferb decided to sit beside him to lessen the humiliation his brother was feeling, and leaned his head on Phineas' shoulder. "I got carried away again."

"If you feel guilty, just let me assure that it's absolutely fine and I gave you full authority, so whatever that is you're feeling right now, get rid of i-…" And Ferb was kissing him again, not knowing if he could stop himself this time.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>I have no excuse on writing this. Blame every lewd thing you've read to Neil Patrick Harris and Josh Radnor. Blame it on "The Paris Letter". Blame it on Sandy and Anton. Blame everything on How I Met Your Mother. Okay, don't. Because this was done way back (maybe two months ago after the fact that there was a phonebooth on their room and IT WAS BEGGED TO BE WRITEN). If I mentally screwed your minds, HAHAHA I'm sorry. I'm taking a short break (short, like one or two days) on **Mind Over Matter**, so if you haven't read it, then please check it out. :D Grammatical errors will be, once again, checked hours after I create this story, so if you see one, knock yourself out. :D


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